


Pockets

by Abitfairytailforme



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, I love that tag, Light Angst, Pockets, Useless Lesbians, like she does, the doctor rambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 14:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abitfairytailforme/pseuds/Abitfairytailforme
Summary: The Doctor despises empty pockets. She puts an entire universe in her pockets, and what is a universe without Yaz, after all? You can't have a universe without Yaz...





	Pockets

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Thasmin fic. Yasmin is called Yaz here because her friends get to call her Yaz, and I refuse to admit she's not real and not my friend. Also, this isn't beta'd, so all the mistakes are mine. Please enjoy despite any errors!

Yaz walked into the console room to find the Doctor's coat thrown over a column, but there was no other sign of the eccentric woman she had been looking for. Not for a moment, anyway. Then Yaz heard the tell-tale sound of tools working the complex machinery Yaz wouldn't understand even if she spent years studying it. By the Tardis' seemingly displeased noise, Yaz questioned if the Doctor truly understood the machinery either.

"Doctor?" Yaz called out. She knew the other women was in the room  _somewhere_ , but she just couldn't see her. When the Doctor responded, it sounded echoey, like she was inside the walls.

"Yaz!" the Doctor answered, untempered glee in her voice. "Just in time. I forgot something, any chance you could grab it for me? Unless you needed something, then we could do that first because your needs are definitely more important than some sill-" Yaz cut her off know that the Doctor could follow this train of thought for a long time.

"It's alright, Doctor. I don't need anything. What can I get for you?"

"In my coat there's a tool. It kinda looks like a wrench, but it doesn't look like a wrench at all. It looks more like an pear if it wasn't spherical with that stupid end point. Pears really are horrible things. Never forget that Yaz, never ever let me eat a pear. I ate one when I was a human a couple thousand years ago, and I can sometimes still taste it!" Yaz grabbed the woman's coat, already rummaging through the left hand pocket. "I thought I had all the tools I'd need before I started, but I'd forgotten that I'd taken it out when I went and visited Io-five. That was when you needed to go home for a week, remember? They are very nice people, the people that live on Io-five."

"Do you know what pocket you put it in, Doctor?" Yaz asked after she had found nothing but a small dictionary in the woman's left hand pocket. Curious as the why the Doctor would possibly want a dictionary, she had flipped through it and saw several words highlighted: contronym, defenestration, futz, pantagruelian. What on earth did these words have in common? Were they just fun? 

"Not sure to be honest. An interior pocket I think." Yaz nodded, not really processing that the Doctor wouldn't see that action, and she continued to stick her hand into random pockets trying to find the tool the Doctor was looking for. "You think that the people of Io-five would talk a ton seeing as they have five mouths, but they don't really love conversation. Still love the Io-five..." the Doctor slowed in her monologue. "Io-fiven? Io-fivers? Io... the people of Io-five!" the Doctor finally settled on with a triumphant tone.

Yaz kept searching the vast number of pockets, finding random things along the way. An empty can of silly putty, a purple rock, a pocket full of silly putty - Yaz really, truly regretted putting her hand in that pocket. Yaz only stopped when she noticed the Doctor had stopped talking. "Doctor? You OK?" she gently asked, concerned the woman had somehow hurt herself.

"Yeah, 'course I am. I'm always OK, fabulous, alright, scrumptious! Wait, no, not scrumptious, that means something else entirely." Yaz blushed, a quiet - alright, fine, loud and present - thought of  _you are scrumptious_ flitting through her mind. "But, and I don't mean to push you at all, but do you think you'll be able to find that tool?"

"I'm trying, Doctor, you've got a lot of pockets here, and they're all full." Yaz was trying to hold back her rising frustration. She really wanted to do this right for the Doctor. It was just one tool, Yaz should be able to find it, right? 

"I only press because the Tardis is upset that I haven't fixed her after our adventure last week, and the reason they're all full is because I hate empty pockets. Empty pockets are horrible, I mean, that's how I nearly died on..." as the Doctor rambled off on another tangent, Yaz found a pocket more bulky than any other she had encountered. Her hopes rose as she shoved her hand into it. She pulled out a gum wrapper, then a wilted flower. She twisted the flower around in her hand.  _Why does this look so familiar?_ Yaz asked herself.

"Could it be in your interior breast pocket, Doctor? There's a lot of stuff in this one," Yaz asked her, continuing to pull out scraps of paper, a pound note, a henna brush, a hair tie, a pencil.

"You know what, Yaz, why don't you just give me my coat? Can't believe I didn't think of that earlier. I was being daft." Yaz shoved all the stuff back into that pocket, but the piece of paper slipped out, opening on its way down. Yaz's eyebrows furrowed when she recognized her own handwriting.  _Took a shift, be back tonight - Yaz._ This note was three months old at least and not important. Why did the Doctor keep it? "Yaz?" the Doctor asked again.

"Sorry," Yaz said, a blush warming her cheeks as she stuffed the note back into the pocket, suddenly feeling as if she had terribly invaded the other woman's privacy. "Where are you?"

"'Round the console," the Doctor answered, and when Yaz rounded the complex levers and buttons, she found a tile of the floor pulled up. The opening looked liked it would barely fit a set of shoulders, but the Doctor - lithe and determined - was halfway into it at that point. Yaz's stomach dropped and her ears burned when she was greeted by a rather perfect rear end. It didn't help any when the Doctor, having heard Yaz approach, stopped what she was doing to greet her. Her blond hair was disheveled, a strand or two blocking out those hazel eyes and getting into her infectious smile. She grabbed the coat when it was offered to her. "Brilliant, thanks, Yaz!" With no effort, the Doctor shoved her hand into the coat and came out with the tool. Yaz's eyes bugged.

"How'd you find it so easily?" Yaz asked, but it was unclear if she was asking herself or the Doctor. The Doctor answered anyway. 

"Oh, it's next to your pocket, of course." Yaz stared with wide eyes. She finally put it together. The flower, hair tie, note, gum, and everything else that had all come from her, and that Doctor had kept it all. And somehow,  _somehow_ , the Doctor had casually brought up the fact that she kept everything Yaz gave her. "Oh, I just realized that that detail really would've helped you find it. I'm sorry, Yaz. I hope you didn't go through the icky pocket while trying to find it. I didn't realize you actually had to put the silly putty  _back_ into the container, and even the best dry cleaner on this one planet right off of the galaxy at the edge of the universe couldn't clean it off. And that's a misleading name because it's not actually at the edge of the universe. There is no edge of the universe, actually."

"Doctor," Yaz finally said when the Doctor paused for a breath. She was trying to find the words to ask the Doctor about the pocket and to therefore to confront her own feelings. She found herself at a loss.

"Yes, Yaz?" the Doctor's smile was just too much. 

"Why do you have a pocket full of my stuff?" Suddenly the smile disappeared and was replaced with a look of shame, a blush creeping up onto the pale skin that couldn't hide anything. Yaz was shocked, never having seen the Doctor blush, and she felt incredibly bad about it. Yaz didn't want the Doctor to ever be upset, and Yaz definitely didn't want it to be it because of something she had said. "It's okay," she rushed to assure the Doctor. She looked up at Yaz, an emotion in her eyes so complex Yaz couldn't dissect it. 

"Because they're reminders. They're reminders of times and places, of people we met and things we did. Good things, so many good things, Yaz." Could it be passion the Doctor was feeling? "Of you and I doing that." Whatever it was, Yaz knew she wanted to see it more. 

"Why me?" she asked. "Why not the others, why do you keep what you and I do?" It was a question Yaz desperately wanted to be answered a certain way. And the Doctor looked like she would never find the right words to answer it. So Yaz decided to as her a more direct question. "Did you want to answer my mother differently when she asked if we were seeing each other?" This time the Doctor looked ready to answer.

"Oh no, certainly not." Yaz's heart was officially stomped on by a beautiful blonde woman. Squished beyond repair, just a pulp of past hopes and dreams. And yet it still ached for the other woman, and Yaz was sure it would never stop. Yaz was getting ready to run when the Doctor continued, "Well, I knew I wanted to be in a relationship with you, but I wasn't very sure if we were in a relationship. And I didn't say anything because apparently saying you're in a relationship before agreeing with the other person about whether you're in one or not isn't good form. Or even telling people before you agree who you're going to tell is not good etiquette. I've been working on my etiquette, was that correct?" The glee in the Doctor's voice at the idea that her etiquette might be improving stunned Yaz for a second. So supposedly there was one thing that could repair her heart. And, as the Doctor was always preaching, it was hope and love. 

"That's right, Doctor, but you said wanted?" Her voice could barely wrap around those words, "You want to be in a relationship with me?" 

"Very much so, Yaz. You're brilliant and kind. Not only that, but you're smart and funny, and you care so much about people. I've met a lot of people, a lot of amazing, brilliant people, but very few have cared for others the way you do. And I," Yaz could not wait anymore, and she rushes forward and presses them together, lips colliding softly after all this time. The Doctor sighs into her mouth, and Yaz can feel her smile before sliding a hand around her back and pulling her closer. Yaz's hand finds a way into the Doctor's hair, messing it up even further, and when Yaz slightly tugged, the Doctor moaned into her mouth. Yaz makes a mental note of that and puts it aside for later. Yaz, reluctantly, pulls away. Her eyes search the Doctor's hazel ones that have gone darker with a hint of lust spiraling in them. "So," the Doctor starts innocently, "Does this mean we're seeing each other?" Yaz laughs giddily, unable to process the pure joy that races through her. She has just kissed the Doctor, and now she was in a relationship with her.

"Yes, Doctor, we're seeing each other." The Doctor's grin is blinding, and it makes Yaz feel bubbly in her gut like she is alight with happy nerves. The Doctor puts the tool away in her coat. Yaz scoffs incredulously. "Doctor? I just got that for you!"

"I know, but it has to go into your pocket, so I can always remember this." Yup, Yaz was definitely feeling those happy nerves now. She leans in for another kiss, and when they break, foreheads resting against each other, she knows nothing else in the universe will ever compare to this. Then she notices the Doctor's nervous grin, the Doctor's eyes trying not to make contact with hers. 

"What?" Yaz whispers, fear bubbling up that the Doctor had changed her mind, or that she was playing a joke on her, or a numerous amounts of other negative possibilities. The Doctor reachers into her toolbox and pulls out an identical looking tool, and Yaz's fears dissipate. 

Sheepishly, the Doctor states, "I just realized I had another one all along..." 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, (constructive) criticism, and love are always appreciated.


End file.
